


wounds are the documents of the body

by wintervioleteye (hawkguyed)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bruised and beautiful, even if james hates them, q loves his scars, scars and bruises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkguyed/pseuds/wintervioleteye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are plenty of marks on Bond’s body, the bruises and scars there an ever-changing road map of where he’s been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wounds are the documents of the body

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://homoeroticismforthewin.tumblr.com/post/35553966423/veelez-homoeroticismforthewin-cant-explain).

There are plenty of marks on Bond’s body, the bruises and scars there an ever-changing road map of where he’s been; the angry red of an op gone wrong in Bolivia, the faded, still-healing bruise where James had hit the ground in Russia, and the neat line of stitches from the most recent stab-wound on his bicep. 

The first time Q sees them is when he walks in on Bond attempting to stitch a particularly nasty wound shut. This one is all jagged lines and torn skin, dried blood crusting just below it. Angry henchmen, James tells him, and Q glowers at him before snatching away the needle and thread. (He notices the rest of them later, while changing the bloodied bandage for Bond.) 

Somehow it becomes routine, after that, for Q to come home to find Bond perched on a bar-stool, coat draped neatly over a nearby chair. 

James rarely talks about how he’d gotten them while Q puts him back together. Q has learnt a long time ago that James’ silence is preferable to the sadness that creeps into his voice and the tremor in his usually steady hands. 

Sometimes the bruises overlap, purple fading under a blossom of red, and Q finds it beautiful, fingers ghosting over the mess of red-blue-purple. Sometimes the scars run into one another, a never-ending line that cuts a trail across Bond’s tanned skin. Q watches them heal, knowing full well that James will go out there despite sporting an ugly red-and-purple blotch on his shoulder.

He won’t stop the man. 

Instead, Q traces shapes over the patchwork of colors and old, faded lines when James is asleep after the debriefing, careful not to wake him as he deciphers what the agent doesn’t tell him. 

James’ scars are a road-map, after all.


End file.
